


Becky and Sasha Geek Out

by Mithen



Series: Scenes from a Tour of Japan [3]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, Friendship, Kayfabe Compliant, Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 05:29:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7347028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mithen/pseuds/Mithen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Asuka takes Becky Lynch and Sasha Banks out for a day of geeky delights in Tokyo.  Too bad Sasha's so determined not to be so uncool as to actually get excited about anything...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Becky and Sasha Geek Out

_“Good morning, Tokyo!”_

Becky Lynch threw her arms out as if to embrace all of the sprawling cityscape that spread out beyond the vast windows of the thirty-third floor hotel lobby.

Behind her, someone yawned.

Becky turned to find Sasha Banks, sunglasses already firmly in place, sauntering up behind her. “Aren’t _you_ chipper?” Sasha drawled.

“Oh, come _on,_ Sasha,” Becky said, going to punch her lightly on the shoulder. Sasha dodged her and brushed the move off. “I know you’re thrilled to be here. Just admit it.”

“I don’t have to admit _anything,_ ” Sasha said. 

Becky looked at Sasha a moment, feeling her shoulders sag. “I guess you don’t,” she said at last. “I just… I’ve been looking forward to today. To spending some time with you.” _Stupid,_ a voice in her head snarled at her, _Stupid, to admit it, to make yourself vulnerable to someone who will never show a moment of weakness._ She forced herself to shrug. “But whatever,” she said, her voice sounding false in her own ears.

“Morning!” called a cheerful voice, and Becky turned, relieved, from Sasha’s sunglass-guarded stare to see Asuka making her way across the lobby, smiling and waving. She was wearing a t-shirt and jeans and still managed to look like a fashion plate, her multi-colored hair swirling around her face. She grabbed both of their arms. “Akihabara! Let’s go!”

* * *

“Oh my God, I’m so glad you came with us,” Becky said a few minutes later, clutching Asuka’s arm as what seemed like half of the population of the world streamed past them and into Shinjuku station. “I would be _so lost_ right now.”

Sasha said nothing, but her grip on Asuka’s other arm was pretty firm, Becky noticed. The subway map looked like someone had thrown multicolored spaghetti against the wall. Asuka was attempting to explain how to get to Akihabara, but after a while she just shrugged and said “Follow me.” Going through the gate, she turned back and smiled at them. “It’s good to be home!” she said over the sound of thousands of people hurrying past. 

Becky put her little slip of paper into the gate. It spit it out again on the other side, and Asuka nudged her to remember to pick it up again. 

“Really,” said Asuka, striding toward one of the differently-colored signs with purpose, “Osaka is home, not Tokyo. Osaka and Tokyo, very…” She banged her fists together with a playful snarl. “Don’t like. But here is more like home than Florida,” she added.

“I bet,” said Sasha. Her head was swivelling around, taking in the throngs of people in suits and stylish clothing.

“Hurry!” said Asuka, breaking into a trot down a flight of stairs as a train pulled into the station, accompanied by an incongruous jangling tune. 

They all whipped into the train together just as the doors closed.

Becky held on to one of the straps and made small talk with Asuka, who seemed much less a rainbow-haired murder kicking machine today and much more a human being enjoying being back where she could easily read the signs and understand the announcements. “It must be hard,” Becky said. “I had a hard time moving to Florida from Ireland, and I could speak the language.”

“More or less,” Sasha cut in with a broad Irish accent, and Becky glared at her. Sasha grinned back unrepentantly.

“It was a challenge,” Asuka said earnestly. “Hard to make friends sometimes.” She looked out at the city rattling by, and for a moment her face was sad. “Sometimes I thought maybe I never have friends. But Bayley--” She smiled. Becky knew that smile. It was the smile someone who was Bayley’s friend had when they thought about her. “She’s good.”

“She is,” said Becky, and heard Sasha make a non-committal murmuring sound.

“She told me I would like both of you,” Asuka said.

“She did?” Sasha kept her voice mostly flat, but Becky heard a thread of surprise in it.

“Oh yes. I was worried to travel with you, but she said you were both cool.”

“Aw.” Without thinking, Becky put an arm around Asuka in a half-hug and was surprised when Asuka hugged her back.

“Bayley taught me how to hug like an American,” said Asuka. “How am I?”

“You’re perfect,” laughed Becky. “I think you’re ready for Advanced Huganomics.”

Asuka frowned. “She said that too. What does that mean?”

Becky sifted through the different layers of pun and reference and finally just said “It’s a joke. It’s...funny in English.”

Asuka laughed and hugged her again.

Sasha looked out the window through her sunglasses.

* * *

Akihabara was a bedlam of lights and noise and young people hurrying to and fro. From every store poured a cacophony of excited voices shilling things in high-pitched Japanese, mixed with frenetic electronic music from games or impossibly adorable idol groups.

“Bayley said you like K-pop!” said Asuka, leading Sasha to a store jammed floor to ceiling with posters, pictures, keychains and notebooks of fresh-faced groups of people peering winsomely out from artfully disheveled mops of hair.

“It’s okay, I guess,” said Sasha, ambling in to flick through an assortment of stickers.

“Sasha,” hissed Becky, “I know you love this stuff, stop playing cooler-than-thou!”

Sasha just kept sauntering, looking faintly bored. 

“Becky, let me show you cosplay shop next door,” Asuka said. “Meet you there, Sasha?”

Sasha nodded absently as Asuka dragged Becky out.

“I’m sorry,” Becky said. “She’s being so rude.”

Asuka just smiled. “I wear a mask to the ring,” she said. “Sasha wears a mask almost all the time, _ne?_ It can be hard to take off masks. Give her space. Give her time.” She pointed to the store window. “Meanwhile, we look at cosplay!”

“Man, I _wish_ I could wear some of this to the ring,” Becky said later, looking reverently through the elaborate costumes. “An Attack on Titans costume, that would be incredible.”

“New Day cosplayed Dragonball,” Asuka said. “You could do it, maybe.”

Becky considered it a moment, holding the outfit up admiringly. “It would be hard to wrestle in, though,” she said. 

“Look!” Asuka held up another costume--a familiar sailor suit with a bow in the front. She grinned over Becky’s shoulder. “Sasha, you should get this!”

Behind her, Becky heard an incongruous giggle, almost girlish, but by the time she turned around again it was the Boss standing behind her. Sasha’s bag looked notably heavier than when she’d entered the K-Pop store, and Becky thought she spotted a notebook sticking out of a pocket. Sasha followed her gaze and tucked the plastic bag deeper into the recesses, out of sight.

“What’s that?” Sasha said, nodding at the costume in Asuka’s hand.

“Oh, come _on,_ ” said Becky in disgust.

“Oh, _right_ , Sailor Moon!” Sasha mimed sudden realization, slapping her forehead. 

“Sailor Uranus was my favorite,” said Asuka, grabbing the appropriate costume from the racks. “Sasha, you are Sailor Mars, I think. Passionate and bold.”

“Becky’s probably Sailor Moon, then,” said Sasha. “A klutzy loser who tries too hard.”

“The hero of the story,” Asuka amended gently. “And Sailor Mars’ friend.”

Sasha looked at Asuka, her head tilted as if in amazement at her stupidity. Then she shrugged and grabbed the costumes for Uranus, Mars, and Sailor Moon off the rack. “Okay, we’ll try these on tonight,” she said, strolling toward the counter. “That should light up Instagram.”

Asuka shot Becky a gleeful look as they trailed after Sasha to checkout.

* * *

A young woman in a maid costume handed Asuka a flier, saying something in Japanese. “Want to go to a maid cafe?” Asuka said with a grin.

“Maid in Japan?” Becky couldn’t help but say.

Asuka blinked at her. “Yes. Maid cafe.”

Sasha snorted.

“Sorry,” Becky muttered.

“I’ll pass,” said Sasha. “I don’t need to watch a bunch of girls bowing and calling some guys ‘master,’ thanks.”

“Not even if they call you ‘mistress’?”

Sasha stopped dead on the sidewalk, thinking it over. “That’s more tempting, I confess.” She skipped once, glancing sideways at Becky, who looked away quickly. “But what I want is to live in a world where it’s perfectly normal for the _guys_ to wait on _us_ hand and foot and cater to our every need.”

Asuka clapped her hands together. “Then we are in the wrong part of Tokyo,” she announced. She reached out and grabbed their hands, swinging them around. “Ikebukuro! Let’s go!”

* * *

The slender, tuxedo-clad waiter with the charmingly floppy hair and studious round glasses (that Becky suspected he didn’t need at all) bowed and murmured something to Asuka in Japanese. Asuka laughed and said something back from which Becky was pretty sure she caught the word “wrestler.”

“He asked who you are,” Asuka explained as he went away again, wide-eyed. “He thought you must be French supermodels, you are so beautiful.” She picked up her spoon and took a delicate nibble of the exquisite little cake in front of her. “I said you are better than supermodels, you are wrestlers.”

“This is _delicious_ ,” Sasha said, staring down at her cake.

“Food always better at butler cafe than maid cafe,” Asuka said, licking her spoon. “Women know food is important.”

Becky looked around the dimly-lit cafe, with its crystal and china and thick carpets and fleets of handsome young gentlemen waiting to jump forward and serve. It was full of women resting out of the hot sun, sitting together in groups, chatting and sharing bites of their food. “I like this,” she said.

“It’s fun,” said Asuka with a smile. “Maybe next year we come back with Bayley.”

“How’s Bayley doing, anyway?” said Becky. “I miss her.”

Sasha didn’t say anything, but Becky appreciated that she at least did not point out that Becky had left NXT as Bayley’s enemy, not her friend.

“She misses you too,” Asuka said. “All of you. She is fierce, but her heart is lonely, I think.”

“Sounds like the two of you have had some real heart-to-hearts,” said Sasha.

Asuka tilted her head to the side. “I wrestled her,” she said. “And she held nothing back. So I know her heart.” She took a bite of her cake. “Just as you do, Sasha.”

Sasha took a long breath through her nose. Then she snapped her fingers at a passing waiter, who swiveled promptly to stand at her chair, smiling. “Fetch me more sugar,” she announced.

The waiter bowed deeply, seemingly delighted, and murmured something before disappearing,

“He said he was happy to serve you, mistress,” said Asuka, dimpling at her.

Sasha sank back into her plush chair, smirking. “I _really_ like this place,” she said.

* * *

“I don’t know,” Becky said, hanging back as Asuka tugged her forward. “Seriously?”

“It will be fun,” Asuka said.

Sasha looked back over her shoulder, sliding her sunglasses down to cast Becky a challenging glare over them. “What are you, scared?”

Becky felt her jaw set. “Never.”

And so she let Asuka pull her into the crowded, hectic manga store and drag her up to the top floor.

“The wrestling doujinshi are here, in sport,” Asuka said, pointing at an entirely unintelligible sign in Japanese before plunging between the narrow bookcases, Sasha and Becky trailing along behind her. “A little random,” she said, hauling a pile of slender, plastic-sealed pamphlets from the shelf and splitting them between them. 

“These are mostly New Japan,” Becky said out loud as she leafed through them, seeing a few familiar faces: Okada, Tanahashi, Ibushi--

“Gimme, gimme!” Sasha said, and Becky suddenly realized she had squeaked out loud as the Prince Devitt/Ryusuke Taguchi doujinshi was pulled out of her hand. “Oh, we gotta buy this one,” Sasha announced. “Too bad it’s sealed so we can’t just get a peek.”

Becky was actually relieved she had an excuse not to look at it right there and then; she was already afraid her face matched her hair.

“WWE is...mostly Reigns and Ambrose,” said Asuka, poring over her stack. “Pretty art.”

“Look!” Sasha held up a doujinshi with two familiar faces on it. “CassAmore!”

“CassAmore?” Becky said.

Sasha looked back down at the pile of magazines in her hands. “That’s what some people call it. Or so I’ve heard.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” Becky snapped, “It’s _okay_ to show a scrap of enthusiasm about something, Sasha!” She stood up, glaring down at Sasha, who was still crouched on the floor with her pile of doujinshi. “I know you’re passionate about so many things, why won’t you just let yourself _show_ it? It’s _okay_ to risk caring!”

Sasha looked up at Becky quickly, as if Becky had struck her. “Is it?” she said. 

Then she looked away.

Becky took a breath. “Yes,” she said. “Yes. It is. It’s a risk, but it’s always worth it.”

There was a long silence while they both looked anywhere but at each other. Then Asuka abruptly flourished a doujinshi between them.

“Hunter/Shawn!” she announced. “You want?”

 _“No,_ ” Becky and Sasha said in unison. Then they looked at each other and started to laugh until Sasha’s knees buckled and she sat down in the aisle, still laughing. People were staring at them. Becky didn’t care.

“I buy it anyway,” Asuka said with a wink, adding it to the little stack.

“There’s not enough women,” said Sasha, wiping her eyes.

“That’s right,” said Becky. “These are all doujinHEs, not doujinSHEs.”

Sasha’s face scrunched up in dismay. Asuka’s smile slowly grew perplexed. Then she shrugged.

“We must inspire them,” said Asuka.

“Damn straight,” said Sasha. 

Becky reached out her hand to help Sasha to her feet. Sasha looked at it for a moment, then grabbed it and let herself be hauled up, turning it into a dramatic hand-clasp pose at the end.

* * *

“Hey,” said Sasha over the clacking of the train, holding up her phone. “E says Cass and Enzo finally did it.”

“About time,” said Becky.

“Oh, wonderful,” said Asuka. “I give them their doujinshi to celebrate.”

“It might be fun to see their reactions,” Becky admitted, grinning at Sasha.

Sasha stared out the window of the train for a long moment. Then she started to giggle, and the three of them leaned against each other and laughed all the way back to Shinjuku.

* * *

“Thank you for showing us around,” Becky said to Asuka. Sasha had already said goodnight and headed upstairs. Outside, the lights of Tokyo were like an infinite field of stars below them. “I had a great day.”

“It’s not over,” said Asuka with an impish grin, but wouldn’t explain what she meant. “I look forward to fighting you tomorrow,” she said instead, punching Becky lightly on the shoulder. “We take pictures in Sailor costumes after. Burn up Instagram, like Sasha said.”

Becky punched her shoulder back, then pulled her into a hug. “You got it.”

* * *

The elevator dinged and let her out onto her floor, where the hallway carpeting was so thick that her feet made no sound. She yawned and stretched as she padded down the dimly-lit hall, but stopped in mid-stretch as she rounded the corner and found Sasha leaning against her door.

Sasha’s sunglasses were off, as was most of the dramatic Boss makeup. She was wearing one of the hotel bathrobes, her skin glowing golden next to the pristine white cotton. “Hi,” she said as Becky drew closer.

“Hi,” said Becky, feeling off-balance and unsure.

“Asuka gave me something,” said Sasha. She held up a plastic-sealed doujinshi. The title was in Japanese, but the cover was of two women drawn in an Art Nouveau style--one in sunglasses, one with goggles perched on top of her head. Their brightly-colored hair mingled and framed their faces as they kissed. “She said it was a...bedtime story for me. Maybe for us.” Sasha cleared her throat and looked away as Becky stared at the doujinshi. “It’s worth the risk to admit you care. You said.”

“I did,” said Becky, and she took Sasha’s chin in her hand (was it trembling, just a little?) and kissed Sasha, very gently, on the mouth.

Sasha’s hands tangled in her hair, and Becky felt her take a long, shaking breath. Then she spun to put Becky up against the door and kiss her not at all gently. Not at all.

“We should probably get out of the hall before we scandalize someone,” Becky muttered after a little while.

“To hell with them,” Sasha murmured, but waited patiently as Becky extracted the key with shaking hands and opened the door.

The bed was freshly made, crisp and white. Sasha undid the sash of her robe and threw herself onto the white sheets, arms spread wide as if making her triumphant entrance, glowing like a gem in the citylight from the window as the robe slipped off her curves.

“Skip the doujinshi,” she said to Becky. “Let’s make our own story.”


End file.
